


Late-Night Visit

by CarboMcoco



Category: The Monstrumologist Series - Rick Yancey
Genre: Denial of Feelings, F/M, M/M, Reader Insert, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-13 01:40:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5689678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarboMcoco/pseuds/CarboMcoco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kearns can't sleep over Warthrop's yelling and decides to join you. Please forgive me. I have no idea how to rate this. T to be safe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Late-Night Visit

**Author's Note:**

> I've never posted a fanfiction on the internet before and I'm so sorry. Thanks to boundingfeather for reading over it and giving me the strength to post this.

You feel the mattress dip slightly to one side as someone climbs into bed behind you. Before your confusion and panic can fully set in, you hear a soft voice, almost a whisper, murmur, "It's just me." The British accent immediately identifies its owner. You freeze.

"Kearns?" You whisper.

"Of course. I hope I didn't frighten you," he purrs. You're about to ask what on earth he's doing in your room, but he explains before you have a chance. "The room I'm staying in is right beside the library, and Pellinore's shouting was keeping me up. I thought I'd join you instead. I hope you don't mind."

"Oh, that's fine," you answer instinctually, not immediately realizing what you just agreed to. No, this is not "fine"! This is completely not okay! Right? You feel your heart flutter. However, you don't imagine he would be particularly willing to move now that he's more-or-less gotten your permission to be here, so you don't say anything. He pulls the sheets over himself and gets comfortable, his long legs nearly reaching the edge of the mattress. Well, maybe this wouldn't be so bad. Jack Kearns is just sleeping next to you. No big deal. The pounding in your chest begs to differ, but you try to ignore it.

Just as you're finally drifting off to sleep, you feel Kearns drape his arm over your waist. Your face starts burning. Maybe he's asleep, and he did this subconsciously? You hold your breath for a moment, waiting. He doesn't budge. Yes, that must be what happened. You can't tell if you're relieved or disappointed. This would be so much less confusing if you weren't attracted to him. You enjoy his touch far more than you care to admit, but something about him makes you unbelievably nervous.

You start to relax a little again. Everything is fine, you tell yourself. He tightens his hold on you and slides closer until you can feel his warm breath on the back of your neck. A shiver shoots down your back. Alright, so maybe he isn't asleep. 

He presses his muscular chest against your back. Yep, definitely awake.

Kearns pulls your hips back against his and meets his legs with yours, making your bodies completely flushed and holding you like a child would his favorite stuffed animal.

"Kearns," you nervously start to warn him.

He chuckles. "Good night, darling." He gives you a peck on the back of your neck, his thin mustache tickling your skin.

The butterflies in your stomach make you squirm. You try to scoot away from him, but his arms are keeping your body pressed against his. Damn him. And his charisma. And his strength. And everything. "Come on, Kearns, cut it out," you whimper, failing to laugh it off.

"What?" Kearns purrs. "Afraid of what Pellinore might think? Oh, he'd throw a fit if he saw us like this, wouldn't he? But he's occupied at the moment, and I doubt he'd find any reason to check on either of us. It's just you and me tonight." He gives your neck another quick kiss. You tense up. Goodness, did he have to say it like that? If you weren't so flustered you might just smack him.

"Jack, please," you plead uneasily. 

"Besides, we're not doing anything bad," he says innocently, although you can hear the grin in his voice. "Just resting."

You flip over to face him and push against his shoulders, keeping him at arm's length away from you. You keep your head down and don't look at him, just in case the dark of the night doesn't hide the embarrassment on your face. Everything is silent, apart from the faint sound of Warthrop yelling from the other side of the house. Kearns clears his throat and calls your name. You glance up to look at him. The pale light of the moon filtering through the window illuminates his grey eyes. His grin is gone, and one eyebrow is raised questioningly.

"I will leave, if you want me to," he says softly. "Is that what you'd like me to do?"

You start to answer, but find yourself tongue-tied. 

He runs his fingers through his messy blond hair to brush it out of his face. "Say the word, and I'm gone."

You break eye contact with him again. You're honestly not sure what to say. Part of you wants him out of your bed, our of the house, out of America, and back in England. Part of you wants him to stay right where he is. Your hands release his shoulders and you let out a small sigh. "You can stay."

He slides a bit closer to you. "That's not what I asked you. What do you want me to do?"

"It doesn't matter to me," you quickly say.

"Well, I'm afraid you'll have to make up your mind," Kearns informs you, failing to hide a smirk.

"I want you to stay," you finally mumble.

"Pardon me?" he asks, although he clearly heard you. "I didn't quite catch that. A bit louder, if you would."

"I want you to stay," you repeat, embarrassed at his teasing.

He smiles. "If you insist." He kisses your forehead, lays down his head, tells you good night, and closes his eyes.

\--

The sound of the door creaking open wakes you up. It's still dark. You groan and prop yourself up by your elbows. You hear your name called softly from the doorway. The door closes again and footsteps approach you.

"Sorry for waking you," the voice says, and you notice the British accent. The space beside you in bed is empty. Your groggy mind starts to piece everything together. You let your head fall back on the pillow.

"What time is it?" you ask softly.

"Early," Kearns chuckles. "Very early." He sits on the bed, his hip against yours, and leans over you. He crosses his arm over you and rests his hand on the mattress to steady himself. You can just barely see his soft, apologetic smile before you in the darkness. "I thought it was best that I left before Pellinore got up. I don't imagine he'd like to see me walking out of your room. It's something I'd rather not make either of us explain."

"Right," you agree, embarrassed at the thought of Dr. Warthrop finding out about Kearns's visit. "Wouldn't want him getting the wrong idea."

"Or the right one." Jack's smirk is enough to send the butterflies in your stomach up into a frenzied whirlwind again. He shifts his weight on the bed and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear with his other hand. His hand lingers on your cheek. "But I should be going. Good night." He leans down and quickly pecks your other cheek. Your face burns again. Kearns stands and straightens out his clothes, then exits the room.


End file.
